In The Dark
by EruvandeAini
Summary: Alex and Gene are on the hunt for Artemis, but an unfortunate turn of events leads them into a compromising situation which forces Alex to face up to what's been right in front of her...
1. Chapter 1

~*~

"Right, let's get on with it," Alex said quietly as Gene clicked the door shut.

He looked at her grimly for a second as he turned and then moved over the desk while she started rifling through document folders on a sideboard.

"Anything with Artemis on it at all," she said, scanning down sheets of paper as quickly as she could.

"Thank you Bols, I'm not a ruddy goldfish, I can remember why we're here," Gene growled behind her.

She smiled slightly to herself. He hadn't wanted to come. Breaking into a 'toff's house' looking to steal top-secret documents was a last resort, but he was backed into a corner. If she knew anything about Gene by now, it was that he could be relied upon to step outside the lines when it was necessary. She heard him pulling open drawers.

"Aye aye. What's this, then?" he said, pulling a video cassette from a padded envelope.

Alex came to look at it. There was nothing on the long white strip along the side, but on a white sticker on top of the cassette, small, neat capitals in pencil said 'Ephesus'.

"Ephesus? Holiday video?" she said, taking it from him and turning it over.

"Well, despite it being chucked in the drawer, someone doesn't want it taped over – they've broken the tab," Gene took it back and pointed to the little square that should have had been covered by solid black plastic, but wasn't.

"Diana of the Ephesians," Alex mused aloud.

"Come again?" Gene replied.

"Diana of the Ephesians. She was worshipped in Ephesus," Alex said, raising an eyebrow. "She was also called Artemis."

Gene stilled suddenly, looking at the tape, and up at Alex again. He looked like he had just been told he was holding a bomb.

_Click._

Their heads snapped towards the door simultaneously.

"Shit!" said Gene in a hoarse whisper.

"Over here!" Alex stage whispered back, snatching the cassette from him and pulling open another white panelled door, leading hopefully to another room, at the very least out of sight. Gene bolted after her, and pulled the door closed behind them as quietly as possible. Alex caught sight of the main door to the room open before her view was blocked by wood and the tall bulk of her DCI.

She tried to step back a little, but her backside bumped straight into a shelf. Straightening up, her shoulder also hit hard wood.

"We're in a stationary cupboard!" she whispered crossly.

"It was your choice of hiding place, woman!" Gene growled. "Shh."

They heard the occupant of the room sit down in the creaking leather desk chair, and the unmistakeable click and whirr of a phone dial.

"Hello?" said the male voice. "Are you alone?"

In the light that bled under the doorframe, Alex looked up at Gene and raised her eyebrows. Maybe they were ideally placed to hear something important. They were certainly very close to each other, she realized now. She could feel the body heat radiating from him.

"Tell me what you're wearing," the voice said.

Alex could see the side of Gene's mouth curl up in amusement. She realized with horror what they were about to listen to. It must have showed on her face because Gene put his hand up to her mouth softly and shook his head. She reached her own hand up in irritation to grab his wrist.

"Don't do that!" she hissed.

"Shut up!" he returned, but his hand slipped to her shoulder none-the-less. She let her hand drop from his wrist. She brushed his waist by accident, feeling him flinch slightly. She met his eyes in the half-light, noticing them dip down to her lips and back up again. The intimacy of the situation should have felt a little more uncomfortable than it did, but she trusted Gene. She needed to, she reflected, and not just because they managed to get into scrapes like this. He was something solid in this increasingly strange world.

"Take them off," the voice in the room said.

She watched Gene frown, and he looked down, his hair falling forward. He was beginning to look embarrassed, and she respected him for that. In recent months he'd resisted the obvious smutty remark around her, and she presumed it was because he'd made his point. Male sexuality had been asserted, but gradually he had allowed himself to just be a person with her, and she knew that was part of why she felt so safe to rely on him now.

"Are you touching yourself?" said the man in the room.

She pulled a disgusted face and this time she put her own hand to her mouth. Gene met her eyes again, something apologetic in them. He took his hand from her shoulder and lightly touched the fingers she pressed against her lips. It was a kind gesture, almost an apology itself for what was going on in the room.

"I want you to imagine I'm touching you…" the phone call continued.

It should have been as jarring as the rest of it had been, but suddenly Gene's eyes looked darker and deeper at her, and she felt her own soften at the look, his hand still slightly over hers.

He made no movement, and she sensed he was holding himself very still. Almost imperceptibly, she felt her own fingers slip from under his, but he didn't move his away, still touching her lips, but not to silence her, just resting there.

It was an oddly intimate touch and she felt a warmth beginning to glow in her chest in response. She swallowed slightly, the shifting of her lips as she did so seeming to break the spell a little, and Gene slowly drew his fingers across her lower lip and away.

She impulsively grabbed his hand, putting her thumb in his palm and squeezing slightly and feeling her heartbeat quicken unmistakeably. The air was instantly charged with electricity she wasn't expecting, like something had been waiting for her to reach out, or take a step.

She could tell by the rise and fall of his chest that he was breathing quicker, and as she closed the distance between them by a few more millimetres, she saw him gulp a little. She held her head there, moistening her lips, and bringing her eyes back to his. He didn't move at all, and slowly she became aware that he was waiting for her to act.

Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, she felt herself leaning further, until her lips just brushed his. She felt the warmth of his breath, and pressed her mouth against his, lips gently apart. He seemed stunned, stock still for a moment, and then she felt the pressure returned, and his other hand ran round her waist, pulling her into it with more confidence.

"You dirty whore," came a gasping groan from in the room, and the sound of a receiver being replaced in it's cradle.

Alex pulled back in shock, Gene swaying into her as she did, his eyes opening, but unfocused. She put her hands to his chest to steady him, and they both turned their heads to the door, waiting to see what happened next.

There was a cough, and the sound of shuffling, and then the main door clicked closed. Alex turned back to Gene, as he moved his face back to hers. Their arms were still entangled, and instantly there was awkwardness.

"Ah…" Alex managed.

Gene looked down and up again quickly and met her eyes, reading her confusion.

"Well, I'm not staying in a cupboard longer than I have to," he said, slipping his hand from her waist and opening the door.

They stumbled out into the room, Alex still clutching the tape. She looked back at Gene, who ran his hand through his hair and over his face, blinking now they were in the light of the room. A short look passed between them, now they could see each other clearly, and Alex noticed she felt faintly scared as Gene looked at her guiltily.

"We've got what we came for, I think," she said in a hushed voice, biting her lip.

He nodded, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Let's get the hell out of here," he said.

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

"All I'm sayin' is she'll want a fairytale. Women always do," Ray said.

"So we've all got to dress up, then?" Chris asked.

"'Course you've got to dress up, it's a wedding!" Ray looked almost scandalized. They were sitting in the back of the Quattro, parked in a quiet leafy side street, waiting for their DI and DCI to return.

"What like though? There's loads of fairytales, how am I s'posed to know which one she wants? Little Red Riding Hood, Three Little Pigs, Babes In The Wood…" Chris sounded baffled and ever so slightly panicked.

"Not a kid's fairytale, you twat. She's just going to want to feel like a princess," Ray was scornful.

Chris looked like the light was dawning a little, and then frowned as Ray hit him on the arm.

"It's the Guv," he said, pointing to where Gene and Alex were scrambling over the edge of a brick garden wall.

They ran gingerly along the pavement to the car and got in, sounding breathless.

"Did you get anything?" Ray asked, leaning forward, hands on the back of the driving seat.

"Oh yes, my son. I certainly did!" Gene said triumphantly, and Ray noticed a quick, odd glance pass between his superiors. It was gone in a flash, though, and the ignition roared, throwing Ray backwards as they sped away.

~*~

Back at the station, Gene pulled the blind down on his door as Alex twisted the pulley to cover the windows. She met his eyes briefly and moved to the large television. It sat on a trolley, a few thin black wires trailing out of the back of it, connecting it to the mains and the enormous video machine underneath it.

She didn't look at him again until she'd pushed the video cassette in. Was this how it was going to work, then? Making a move in the dark, where it didn't matter, and pretend it hadn't happened afterwards. He wasn't having that. He'd waited long enough for a more tangible signal of how she felt. She might not know that he would do almost anything for her, but he certainly wasn't going to play the coy teenager.

"Let's see what's on it then," she said, pressing a button on the video machine.

Gene poured himself a drink and took a sip as the screen flickered to life, two men in view, sitting opposite one another at a table. The camera angle was odd and there was a triangle of black covering one corner of the screen.

"It's concealed filming," Alex said, standing up from crouching and stepping back to get a clear view.

"It's not Hitchcock, I can tell you that," Gene said, watching the screen.

"Shh," Alex hushed.

The sound on the tape was very scratchy and indistinct, but the men were clearly arguing about something, one in particular more agitated than the other. It went on for a few minutes, and despite straining to hear, Gene couldn't make out any details. Then, suddenly, the man who had been so agitated slumped forward, his head in his hands. He appeared to be sobbing. The other man stood, pulled something from his jacket and pointed it. It was a gun. There was a gunshot, and white static filled the television screen.

Alex whirled around to look at Gene, her blue-lined eyes wide with shock.

"It's a murder!" she breathed.

"Alright, I take it back, maybe it is Hitchcock," Gene said, throwing back the rest of his drink and grimacing.

"Oh, this is enormous," she said, her hand coming to her mouth.

"It's dangerous, Bols. We're in over our heads," he said, hitching his hand to his waist, pushing his jacket back.

"We can't pull back now, Guv," she replied, coming round the desk to him. "We're really close to something big."

He looked down at her, trying to read those big eyes. They were pleading with him again. She got like this once in a while, looking at him like he held the key to something vital for her, and seemingly oblivious to how it made him feel. He pouted thoughtfully for a second, looking from her eyes to her lips and back again.

They had already jumped feet first into the Artemis mess, against his better judgement. No going back now, no matter what he wanted; they knew too much, even though none of it made any sense. He realized it wasn't too far from a description of what had happened in that cramped cupboard.

"You're not one for pulling back then, Alex," he said quietly, watching her eyes change from pleading to guarded in a matter of seconds. She knew what he meant.

She bit in her lower lip a little and broke the eye contact, slipping her hands into her back pockets.

"I just think we're really on to something," she answered, professionally, looking back at him.

"I agree," Gene replied, and he wasn't talking about Artemis. "The question is - what is it?"

He held her gaze for a few seconds more, letting his words and the intent behind them sink in, watching her cogs whirring as she digested them. Then he looked away, sniffing, walked to the blinds and twisted them open again.

She flinched suddenly as there was a smart knock on the door and Shaz peeped round it.

"Got them files you asked for, Guv," she said, handing him a small stack of manila folders.

~*~

Alex ran a brush through her hair, feeling it bounce against the strokes. She didn't know what to focus on any more. The clown, her parent's death, the roses, Artemis; somehow it all seemed to lead to tantalizing wisps of nothing.

She applied her mascara carefully. What if it was something else entirely? What if the something she needed to focus on had been right in front of her the whole time? Gene's face swam in her mind, inches away from her face, looking, as it so often seemed, into her soul.

She closed her eyes for a second, feeling tears prickle in the inner corners. She trusted him; she didn't have any other choice about that. Whatever happened in this world, be it fantasy or some bizarre sort of reality, he was there and whenever he was, she felt like she wasn't lost yet. Or if she was, it was somehow all right to be lost.

Her old reality slipped away with every second that passed, Molly becoming just a figure in her nightmares, almost as distant as the ghosts of her parents. It hurt to remember, so she had stopped really trying.

But trust was one thing. You didn't fall into intimate kisses just because of trust. She rubbed her lips together, recalling the sense of pressure when he returned her kiss, the channelled electricity behind it, his hand in the small of her back, pulling her in.

She took a breath in through her nose, breathing out through her mouth as she opened her eyes. Time for a drink.


	3. Chapter 3

~*~

"D'you know what I think, Gene?" said Alex, resting her chin on her palm and waving her wineglass for emphasis.

"I wouldn't even pretend to know what passes for coherent thought in that pretty little 'ead of yours, Mrs Fruitcake," Gene replied, watching her take another sip.

"I think… that you are a very special person _indeed_," she said, and he could see her eyes having a little trouble focusing on him, even though he was sitting right next to her, leaning on the table with his elbows.

He lifted his eyebrows appraisingly and took another mouthful of beer.

"That has got to be one of the single most inane things that you have ever said," he replied.

"No, but you are, you are," she insisted, putting her glass down and patting his arm.

"You know what _I_ think, Bols?" he said, leaning closer to catch her eyes.

"No, tell me," she smiled.

"I think…" he began, putting his hand over hers on his arm. "That you like hiding."

He sniffed and waited for his words to sink in a little. Her smooth white brow creased up, and there was befuddled confusion behind her immaculately made-up eyes.

"I don't… I don't think I underst…"

"You like hiding," he reiterated. "You like putting yourself in places where you think you can't be seen."

She shook her head a little, her eyebrow bobbing up as she took another large gulp of red wine. She took a breath and focused on his eyes again.

"I am grown woman, Mr Hunt, I do not play hide and seek," she said finally. She was being evasive, the bugger.

"Believe me, Alex, there's nothing I know quite so well as the fact that you are a grown bloody woman," he snorted. "I'm just not sure you know it. Certainly don't act like it."

She looked hurt; it was step along from confused and evasive, he reasoned.

"I have had a _little_ bit to drink; if this is a lecture on drink from Gene sodding _Hunt_…"

"Oh shut up, you daft bint, I'm not talking about your ability to consume more alcohol than a fleet of off-duty sailors," he snapped.

She blinked in surprise, her delicate pink mouth pouting gently.

"I am talking," he continued, his voice lower again. "About the fact that you are in your own little made-up world, and you don't want to accept that there's anyone else here with you."

He watched the surprise in her eyes increase, her lips parting slightly, and for a second thought he'd gone a bit too far. He ran his words through his, admittedly, alcohol fogged head, but couldn't work out why they'd be shocking her as much as they seemed to.

She suddenly laughed, looking down at his hand over hers on his arm, and back up to his face.

"I'm not sure I follow…" she slurred a little, waiting expectantly.

He took a steady breath in, holding her eyes. _Right_, _my son_, _now or never_.

"You once asked me to let you in, yeah?" he asked, and she nodded slightly. "If I… if I actually wanted to be, you know, _let in_, how do I know you wouldn't just hide away like you did in that cupboard today?"

He held her eyes for as long as he physically could, seeing the uncertainty in them before looking at the table. He picked up a coaster and began to trace it over a small round wet mark on the table.

"You mean the kiss, don't you?" she said, sounding more lucid. There was a note of disappointment in her voice that cut something in him.

He looked up at her, ready to bluster through it, faltering when he saw tears welling in her eyes.

"What? What've I done now?" he asked, thrown off his already unsteady game.

She closed her eyes and smiled a small soft smile; when she opened her eyes the smile remained, and the tears had abated.

"Everything that you needed to, Gene, as always," she said, leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder, chuckling in what sounded like relief.

"Tell you what, Bolly, you know how to keep a bloke on his toes. I have no idea what's happening here now," he said, baffled.

She looked up at him again, and her hand came to his cheek. Her fingers were warm against his skin, stroking along his jaw line. He really wanted to kiss her, but his confusion made him immobile, just able to look at her.

"Gene," she said, her eyes darkening as her pupils dilated. She really was very drunk, and he knew he'd be escorting her to the door of the flat and no further tonight, but this was much bigger than what might be happening in his trousers.

"Alex," he returned.

"I'm not sure you know what you're asking for if you let me in. I'm not sure I know myself," she said.

"See, that's the thing, I'm a grown man, me. I don't need to have it all explained," he replied, reaching up for her hand. He turned it over and looked at her palm, running his thumb over it as he held it.

"And we've already established you're a grown woman," he added, looking back at her.

"What are you asking me, exactly?" she said, and there was something playful behind her eyes.

Gene pouted and frowned slightly. That was perhaps more specific than he had planned on, and his normally sure gob didn't seem to want to help him out.

"I'm asking… if you'd consider… well… me," he finished, feeling exactly like the coy teenager he swore she wouldn't make him.

"Alright," she said smartly.

He blinked, startled.

"What, is that it? 'Alright'? You're not going to dance around it a bit more?" he said.

"Well, I could say no if you want…"

"No! No, 'alright' is fine, I just didn't think, well, you know, that you'd…"

She stood up, a little unsteady on her feet, and put her hand on his shoulder.

"And you think I underestimate you. You underestimate yourself, Gene. Now, take me upstairs," she said, swaying.

He jumped up quickly, wrapped his arm round her waist to steady her.

"What, now?" he said, his resolve to be a gentleman somewhat rocked by her unexpected acceptance.

"Yes, now. I've had far too much to drink, and I'm going to pass out if I stay down here. I am a 'grown woman'," she waggled her fingers. "And I know when to call it a night."

Kicking himself inside, he felt chivalry getting the better of the elated libido that didn't quite believe she hadn't turned him down flat.

"Bols, I'll take you up there, but I'm not staying," he sighed.

It was her turn to look baffled. "But I thought we just…"

"You just said you'd consider me. I'm quite happy for you to do that sober, when I've treated you to something a bit more upmarket than Luigi's house vinegar," he said, steering her to the stairs.

She looked an odd mixture of disappointed and tremendously pleased, teetering with her arm round his shoulder. When they got to the door of the flat, she slipped her other hand round his neck, standing in front of him and leaning against his chest. He could feel her heartbeat through the slightly guilty pleasure of her breasts pressed against him.

"I quite like conshidering you," she slurred.

He smiled ruefully, thinking of all the times in his head when this scene ended differently – no reticence necessary for the DI Drake in his head. He sighed. The DI Drake in his head was always eager and willing, but he didn't want just a shag with the real one.

"It's never going to be a hardship to consider my faultless male form, Bolly," he said, allowing himself to rest his hands on her hips.

She smiled, amused, running her hands through the hair at the back of his head. It was such a sensual, intimate thing to do, especially with her breasts against him too. He couldn't hold back a physical response, however much control he was trying to exert on himself. She felt it straight away and wiggled against him, grinning wickedly.

He sucked in a breath and looked away from her, knowing it was entirely useless to pretend.

"I can't…" he said when he looked back, her face seeming closer.

"Don't you want to?" she asked, feigning petulance.

"I think you know very well what I want, but not like this," he said, and after a second rested his head against her forehead, willing himself to draw back.

The desire burning in his chest and other more obvious places drummed against his will, and barely a second later he had taken her mouth with his, pouring all the frustrated, pent up passion he could into it. She fell back against the door with the force of it, returning it with an instinctive finesse, hooking one of her legs around his calf and shifting the angle of her hips against him.

He broke away, gasping, pushing back far enough to see her face clearly. Her lips were slightly swollen from the bruising kiss, and he waited until her eyes had refocused before speaking.

"Now, you get yourself to bed and I will see you tomorrow," he said firmly, steeling himself against her crestfallen expression.

"You think this is happening because I'm drunk, don't you?" she said.

"I _know_ this is because you're drunk, woman. If you weren't drunk, your knees'd be up by your ears by now," he replied. "And because I would very much like to do that more than once, I am going home, and you are going to get some sleep."

She smiled wickedly again, and conceded, untangling her hands from his hair.

"I told you that you were special, Gene," she slurred.

"Yeah, prince bloody charming, me," he said, pulling away to leave. "Go. Bed. Now."

He pointed at her door, watching her slot her key in and push it open.

"Right, see you tomorrow, sexy knickers," he grinned as she went inside, and stood by the door watching him. He turned and walked away, staggering a little, partly from the alcohol, and partly from the effort of walking with a monster hard-on.

He heard the door click behind and he blew out a long breath, leaning on the wall.

"Hope you know what you're doing, pal," he said to himself.

~*~


	4. Chapter 4

~*~

"You alright, ma'am?" Shaz asked as Alex slipped down behind her desk, almost missing her chair.

"Yes! Yes Shaz, I'm fine," Alex replied, rubbing her temple gingerly. "Bit of a heavy night, you know."

Shaz smiled and nodded, turning to Chris and pulling a face. Alex let it go, as she always did. It was the truth, after all. Just a heavy night, no other story to tell. Damn it. It wasn't the first time he'd turned her down like that, either, but at least this time he had seen her to the door.

There were more differences, of course, not least because of the conversation that had been slowly coming back to her since she woke up. She bent forward, her head in her hands, trying to replay the significant parts of the evening, and only managing to conjure up fuzzy images of being thoroughly kissed at her door. She sighed.

Suddenly something hit the desk on front of her and she snapped upright. It was a Marathon bar. She picked it up and looked up to see Gene giving her one of his lop-sided grins, his eyes brighter than they had any right to be, considering he was drinking and up as late as she had been.

"Thank you," she said slowly, unconsciously patting the side of her hair.

He looked at her for a few more seconds and then clapped his gloved hands together.

"Right then, you bunch of nancy softies, what fetid dangling from the underbelly of London scum are we dealing with today?" he said cheerfully.

After a few minutes with the rest of CID, directing them into various tasks like a general, he hung his coat up and went to sit down.

"Ah, Guv, can I have a word?" Alex managed, holding up a pencil to catch his attention.

"Fortuitous," he said, turning back in the doorway.

"Pardon?" Alex blinked.

"It's a word. 'Fortuitous'," he repeated. "Come on then."

She got up and scrambled after him into the office, closing the door behind her.

"Guv, you didn't mention Artemis out there," she said, running her fingers on the edge of his desk.

"I did not," he said, sitting down and hitching his feet on the desk.

"Well, I'm just wondering what the next move is," she replied.

"The next move is sitting on our hands and keeping our gobs shut," he told her.

"But we can't! We saw a murder, and we don't know what the connection to the file is, how can we let it drop?"

"Correction, we saw a video tape, not a murder. And furthermore, it was a videotape we nicked. It's a nice juicy lead for The News of the World, but it is not something I want us to pursue any further," he said.

"As simple as that?"

"As simple as that," he repeated.

Alex took a few steps to the side of the desk and back again, trying to channel her frustration. It was a mild reaction considering she wanted to jump up and down on the spot.

"I don't believe I trusted you! All that _flannel_ about _considering_ you, you were just buttering me up to drop me from a great height!" she shouted.

She saw his eyes flash with something and he rocked up and out of his seat.

"Keep your bloody voice down, woman! I do not appreciate our personal life fog horned across the department!" he hissed, coming round the desk.

"What?" she asked, thrown by the response. She expected sparring, but this was altogether different.

He took hold of her upper arm, opened the door and ushered her round the corner to the kitchenette.

"I think _you_ need a cuppa," he said, flicking the kettle switch on.

Alex spluttered for a second, before steadying herself, running her hands through her hair.

"What just happened here?" she asked, bemused, one hand on her hip.

Gene put one teabag in each mug and got the milk out, before turning to Alex, folding his arms.

"Your DCI took you to one side to remind you that getting your fancy French knickers in a twist about a spooky murder, and doing it _loudly_, is very unnecessary," he told her, levelling his eyes at her for a second before the kettle boiled behind him. "That, and the chance to sneak a few cheeky minutes alone with you and your delectable arse was too good to pass up," he continued, handing her a mug of tea.

Alex knew she was staring in shock but she couldn't help it. He took her expression in as he took a mouthful of tea and stilled.

"Bolly?" he said.

"Uh, Guv, what happened last night…"Alex began, watching as his eyes narrowed.

"Yes?" he asked, his tone flat.

"I'm still trying to process, really, and I don't want us to get ahead of ourselves. Because, after all, we're not sure what we're talking about anyway, and I don't want things to reach…" she was babbling, and she didn't even know what she was aiming at.

"Are you backin' out?" he said, guardedly.

"No!" she said, instinctively, and his eyes widened in response. "No, I'm not. I'm just a bit, well, you know." She finished, looking down and tracing her toes round in a nervous circle.

"Yeah, I think I do," he said. "I think you want to hide, just like I said."

He took two steps towards her, holding his mug, his other hand slipped into his trouser pocket. She smiled nervously, looking back up at him. He was right, her overwhelming gut feeling right then was to put the drink down and flee to somewhere safe.

But where was safe if it wasn't next to Gene, anyway? Time and again since she had arrived, he was the clear point of reference. Maybe that was the problem, he was so real here it scared her, his presence shifting her perception of everything she knew.

"I'm not backing out," she said firmly. "I'm just hung over, and I didn't know if you'd have changed your mind," she added by way of explanation.

He cocked an eyebrow and took another gulp of tea.

"Bought you breakfast, Bols, 'course I haven't changed my mind," he said, putting the mug down.

She thought of the Marathon bar he chucked at her, and smiled.

"Thank you," she said warmly. "But I still want to go after Artemis."

Gene shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Is there anything on earth that could stop you?" he said wearily.

"Probably not. I need to find out what's behind it all if I'm ever going to get out of here. I mean, I don't know, maybe it's nothing to do with a way out, but I've exhausted or turned down so many options by now, it feels like I don't have any choice," she replied, watching him watching her the way he always did when she rambled about things which must sound like insanity from his perspective.

"You've always got a choice, Alex," he said, holding her gaze steadily.

There was a long beat, and somewhere in the back of her mind, there was a tone like a Buddhist chime. Then she blinked, and Gene was rubbing the back of his neck and pouting.

"Do I? Can we pursue this, then?" she asked.

Gene sighed and shrugged one shoulder, "Alright. But keep it on the QT."

"Thank you again," she said, putting her hand on his lapel.

He looked down at it and back to her face for a long moment.

"Right then, lets get on with that proper police-work thing," he said, moving past her and giving her backside a hearty smack as he did so.

She jumped, startled, turning to him as he stalked confidently back into the office.

"It's going to be a good day!" he announced to no one in particular, and she smiled quietly to herself and finished her tea.

~*~


	5. Chapter 5

"Hello Alex," came the soft burr on the phone line. Martin Summers' voice should have been attractive, but it seemed to ooze menace.

"What do you want? I've got nothing for you, leave me alone," Alex said into the receiver.

"I see you're allying yourself with Hunt in a closer way. That's a dangerous choice, Alex," he continued.

"Tell you what, why don't you just take no for an answer," Alex replied, and replaced the phone in it's cradle.

"Got that stuff you wanted about Donald Gorton, ma'am," said Shaz, appearing suddenly with a small sheaf of paper.

"Thanks Shaz," Alex said.

She noticed she was shaking a little. Summers wouldn't let it drop, and his seemingly preternatural knowledge of what was going on around her scared her. It was one thing to know she wasn't the only time traveller of sorts here. It was quite another to know that the other time traveller knew more and could do more than she could.

Then again, if this really was in her head, he was just a figment of her wounded and dying imagination. She didn't want to believe that, though, because if Martin Summers was only a figment, then so was Gene, and that thought scared her more than anything.

She scanned the papers in front of her and walked over to Gene's office. He was sitting with his elbow on the desk, resting his chin in his hand, cigarette smoke curling around him.

"What do we think of Gorton's involvement now? Why would he have that video in his house?" she asked, walking over to the filing cabinets and leaning against them.

"Dunno. Blackmail?" Gene suggested, shrugging slightly.

"He wasn't on the video, though," Alex reasoned.

"Maybe the video is nothing to do with Artemis in the first place, Bols. Maybe we stumbled on something completely unconnected," he replied, sitting back in his seat.

"Oh come on, Guv, Gorton threatened us to get you to release the Artemis file again, and when we went to his house we find a deeply incriminating video!"

"Yeah, but incriminating to who? There's no obvious link – might as well have 'Diana and the seven dwarves' on the label," he said, without passion.

"Will you at least let me look in the file?" Alex asked.

"No. It's a top secret file, and the more plausible deniability you have, the better."

"Oh right, you won't give it back, but you won't let me see it? How _plausible_ do you think that's going to be to them?" Alex was facing him down now, hands on hips.

"You know, if I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't trust me," Gene replied, getting up.

"Really? That's funny, because I was thinking exactly the same thing," she retorted.

"Oh, right, so you don't trust me," he said.

"No, I mean _you_ clearly don't trust _me_!" she snapped. "Why are you being so stubborn about this? This could be really important to me getting home, and you're stalling at every turn."

Gene came and stood in front of her, watching her mouth as she pouted like a teenager.

"Perhaps you need to think less about going home, and more about what's right in front of you," he said. There was a low growl in his voice that made her curious.

"What's in front of me?" she asked, quizzical.

"Well I am, aren't I?" he replied testily. "So, tonight. You and me, what time?"

She looked at him, bemused for a few seconds, before concluding he was talking about a date.

"Oh! Oh right, yes. Um, I don't know, whenever we finish up here, I suppose."

"Nope, I want you in something where your legs aren't encased in denim. Much as I like it for day to day," he said, looking down at her legs unself-consciously.

"Seven, then?" Alex replied.

~*~

Alex took her time picking out the gold lame dress. It was hideously eighties, but it did show off her legs to perfection. She wondered if this was the distraction Martin Summers suggested, and realized that for once, she didn't care because she was actually having fun. She swept lipstick across her lips and pressed a tissue between them.

"Showtime," she said.

Down in Luigi's the atmosphere was already a little raucous, and she was surprised to see Gene sitting with the others, and actually laughing at a joke Ray had clearly just told. She hung back in the entrance for a second, enjoying the way his face lightened by the laughter.

Then, he turned, his eyes fixing on her standing there, and his expression changed. The smile only faded slightly, but there was something in his eyes that drew her forward like some kind of sorcery. She walked slowly, watching as his eyes dipped down to her shoes and back up again. His eyes looked so hungry she revised her opinion – she was clearly the one with the sorcery.

"Evenin' gents," she said, enjoying the way even Ray let his jaw drop at the dress.

"Lady Bols," Gene said, getting up and pulling a chair out for her.

She sat down, crossing her legs towards him. He motioned to Luigi, who brought over a bottle of Alex's favourite red.

"Will it do?" she asked Gene.

He indulged in another full-length appraisal.

"It will do very nicely," he replied, handing her a glassful of ruby liquid.

She sipped it, enjoying the sight of him relaxing with friends. These were the images Sam had painted about the Railway Arms pub, things she hadn't really seen from her version of Gene. As the evening wore on, and she enjoyed a few belly laughs herself, she realized he was deliberately catching her ankle with one hand under the table, and the act sent unexpected shivers down her spine. It was so intimate, such a secret, charming thing to do.

"Last orders gentlemen, please. My cousin is visiting from Italia, and the noise upsets her," said Luigi later on, and for once, the crowd heeded his plea, gathering up belongings and sending good wishes to Luigi's cousin from the Met's finest.

Thus it was, surprisingly quickly, that Alex found herself alone with Gene on the street outside the trattoria.

"What now?" Alex said, feeling a comfortable alcoholic buzz.

Gene moved close to her, his face a few centimetres away from hers.

"I could come up. If you want," he said, looking down and up again.

"Yeah, I think I want," she replied, looking down herself. When she lifted her head, his eyes fixed hers as he dipped forward and planted a soft kiss on her lips. She responded immediately, entwining her arms around his neck.

"Right then. Let's go," he said as he pulled back.


	6. Chapter 6

They mounted the steps like they had a search warrant, two or three at a time. It was breathtaking, but Gene was already focused on controlling himself. The anticipation had been killing him, and Alex's appearance in that dress had added another layer of frustration. He did his best to get through the evening with her next to him, legs crossed right in front of him, gently kicking her foot in his direction. All he allowed himself was a slight touch on her ankle, but even that was testing his control.

He'd waited so long, it had occurred to him more than once that he might not be fully up to the job. Alex had become a goddess in his imagination in the time he'd known her, and he didn't want to be struck by lightning, metaphorically speaking. This was too important.

She let them in and threw her purse down on her sofa.

"So… nightcap maybe?" she said, sounding a little unsure of herself.

"Yeah, if you want," he nodded, both hands in his pockets.

She smiled. She walked to a little cabinet, and pulled out a bottle of brandy and a couple of tumblers, pouring them each a generous measure. She held one out to Gene, who took it while holding her eyes, letting his fingers brush hers.

This was it, wasn't it? After wanting it so badly for so long, he couldn't quite believe it was his for the asking. He took a large mouthful and swallowed quickly. She sipped her drink, her eyes dark and full of mischief.

"So," he said, one hand still in his pocket as he moved a little closer to her. "Had the nightcap. What now?"

She looked down and up again, her head at an angle, showing him her long, porcelain perfect neck.

"I don't know," she said. "What's your gut telling you?"

"S'not my gut I'm taking instructions from," he said, watching her mouth.

He was gratified to see a slight smile appear there.

"Ok, what are your instructions?" she said.

He moved in and slipped the hand from his pocket and smoothly up to her neck. He pulled her gently across the small gap between them, and met her mouth with his, kissing the smile away. She responded immediately, slipping her hands behind his shoulders and pressing herself against him.  
The softness of her form held so close was intoxicating, and he ran his other hand down her side, curling it around the curve of her backside.

They were dragged out of the indulgent kiss by the shrill of the phone ringing. Gene growled as Alex pulled away and grabbed the red receiver, jamming it to her ear.

"Hello!" she snapped sharply into the mouthpiece.

"It should have been me Alex. Why wasn't it me?" said Summers in a wistful tone.

"Piss off will you?!" she hissed, and Gene fixed her with a curious stare.

"Phone pest, Bolly?" he asked.

Alex put her hand over the receiver. "Something like that," she said.

He took the phone out of her reluctant hand and put it to his ear.

"Who is this?" he barked.

"Is that Gene Hunt? Well, well. She appears to be all yours, Hunt. The game draws to a close, eh?" the smooth Irish burr said before the line went dead.

"What did he say?" Alex asked anxiously.

Gene looked at her; coiled like a spring, fear in her eyes.

"Well, he was right about one thing, you are all mine now. He said the game was nearly over or something. Who was it?"

"Just a… a stalker. It's not important," she tried to bluster her way out of it, but Gene wasn't having it.

"I'll be the judge of what's important and what's not," he said, replacing the phone.

"He just likes playing mind games," she shrugged.

"That not right up your street, Bols? Psychology," Gene asked.

"Psycho… oh, yes psychology. He just gets a kick out of knowing more than me about this place, I think," she said.

"You don't think it's more than that, then?" he replied, frowning.

"I don't see how it can be, but what do I know. I couldn't save my parents, I've followed every lead that has come my way without success, and now I can't even get bloody laid without prank callers," she was resigned and frustrated.

Gene was silent for a moment.

"I think you have a choice to make, Alex," he said.

~*~

Alex looked back at Gene, sensing that chime in the back of her mind again.

"A choice?" she asked after a moment. He held he gaze with authority.

"A choice," he repeated.

"Well, we're here, aren't we? I made that choice," she said.

"You need to decide to stop fighting me, that's the choice. No more secrets, no more cryptic bollocks. It's now or never," he insisted.

"Now or never," she responded, close to him again. "I told you, I made my choice, and I'm here."

Gene looked down at her, his expression inscrutable. He traced his hand up her neck and ran his thumb along her jawline.

"What about Molly, Alex?"

Alex blinked in surprise.

"M-Molly?"

"Yeah, Molly, your daughter. Why can't you get back to her, d'you think?"

He was dizzily close to her, his words soft, but the sting of them sparking in her mind.

"Because I can't wake up," she whispered, tears coming.

Gene leaned in and kissed her cheek where a lone tear had tracked from her eye.

"What if it's not your dream?" he whispered back.

The next moment she was kissing him for all she was worth, willing the pain of memory away, the faded images of Molly that taunted her.

He returned the kiss with passion, his hands firmly at her waist, strong through the silky fabric there. Her arms slipped around his neck and they almost toppled over from the force of it.

"What if…" Gene said, kissing down her neck. "What if… waking up isn't the answer…"

Alex felt dizzy from the insistent pressure of his lips against her skin, and his words seemed to spin in her mind.

"I d-don't know anymore," she gasped, clasping his shoulders.

He began to pull the zip at the back of the dress.

"What if it's not about you learning anything, or working Artemis out, or whatever hair-brained scheme you think up next," he said, slipping the dress from her shoulders as he kissed her neck.

She was frowning, she knew, but the feel of his hands and lips against her made her reluctant to do anything but yield to him.

"What if you're here because someone needs you to be?"

Alex froze and looked at him, but before she could speak, he was kissing her mouth again, and she fell into it enthusiastically, standing there in her under wear. Questions whirled round in her head, but all she could focus on was Gene's strong arms lifting her from the floor and carrying her through to the bedroom as he continued the kiss. He laid her carefully down on the bed and pulled off his jacket, laying down beside her, placing a big hand on her naked belly.

"Maybe someone else needed to learn something," he said quietly.

"Do you mean you?" she replied, reaching out a hand to stroke his hair.

"What do you think, Alex? You're the one with the 'ead full of theories," He said.

"I think," she said, pulling him to her. "That theories are only as good as the experiments that test them."

He returned her smile and resumed their kiss, and then they clung to each other, stripping each item of clothing off with eagerness, and Alex thought she might just faint clean away with the exquisite tenderness of his kisses. Before long they were naked and she felt as though she should feel vulnerable, but that could never be the case with Gene there. He looked into her eyes and paused.

"Are you sure about this Bols? About why you're doing this?" he was insistent.

"I'm doing this because I want to, Gene. Because you're my rock here," she told him, and it was true.

He nodded briefly and then it really began, his strong hands working against her, the desire building up like charged electricity and before she really knew what was happening he was above her and moving into her and oh, the power of it was overwhelming. She clung to him, exchanging breathless kisses as they sunk into the pleasure of it. Finally, she felt the end approaching and called out his name, incoherent words that seemed to spur him on until finally they came together.

He shifted to the side slightly and collapsed next to her, reaching up a hand to stroke her hair from her cheek.

"Good bye Alex. Say hello to Molly for me," he said, and suddenly Alex felt the room beginning to lighten and she was being pulled out of the bed, spinning round and round until she thought she would explode and then, she opened her eyes.


End file.
